//------------------------------// // Outliers // Story: Too Intelligent to be Loved // by Nikola of Tesla //------------------------------// Chapter 6: Outliers “Now those memories come back to haunt me. They haunt me like a curse.” The town was peaceful. Not really, but it looked that way from where Big Mac was sitting. From his barrel perch, he watched the ponies scurry about. Party preparations were being done at just under panic level. Come to think of it, Big Mac wasn’t sure exactly how what was being done differed from panic. But from here he couldn’t hear their cries, and their frantic scampering looked somehow comical. He had been invited to the party, of course, and was planning on attending. Now as he sat and gazed down on the commotion, he regretted telling Twilight he would be there. This was not a small, quiet social gathering between friends. It may have been originally. But it wasn’t now. He had a fairly good idea who had placed the order for eighty-three barrels of his aged cider. Not just anypony can use the captain of the Wonderbolts as their personal messenger. And not many have the kind of money to pay for it all in one lump sum. The bag bearing the insignia “H.R.H.” just confirmed it. Why exactly the somewhat anonymous benefactor wanted to ensure the merrymaking was well supplied with alcohol, he couldn’t fathom. In the end it didn’t matter. The money would enable him to repair all the roofs on the farm. Celestia was a curious enigma to him. He had met her once, and walked away with the distinct impression she was privy to a joke nopony else knew. Everything he expected a Princess to be - royal, prim, upright - was completely lacking in her. If she wished, she could be the very image of royalty, but he got the feeling it was nothing more than a façade. He pressed the thoughts out of his head and gazed around at the preparations. Under the Mayor’s watchful eye, townsfolk were setting up traffic control points now. The Cutie Mark Crusaders were playing in the mountain of RSVP’s that buried Twilight’s mailbox. At first, the letters had been carted off, but the inflow soon made the folly of this clear. Now it was a sledding pile. Mac would have given a great deal to have seen Twilight’s expression when the first cart dumped its contents on her lawn. But unfortunately he was across town getting the last of the cider, and by the time he was back, Twilight was locked in her lab “preparing.” He waited outside, guarding the alcoholic stockpile from adventurous colts eager to try the intoxicating drink, and hoping to get a word with Twilight. But as the fatal hour approached and more and more ponies streamed into town, he took his leave. It wasn’t his scene. It was too loud, too chaotic. Already it brought back painful memories. His job was done; the cider was delivered, on schedule. Already a crowd was forming around the stage. It had not been announced who would be performing, but the large trailers bearing the familiar logo of DJ Pon-3 were parked suspiciously close. Mac eyed the speakers with ill-concealed contempt. Soon they would be blaring and ponies would be flailing. All the excitement, all the energy - he’d best be well away from it. The rooftop was waiting. Up there he was alone. Nopony would bother him. He could watch the snow fall in peace. With a grunt, he pulled up the ladder and stowed it. Once under the eaves, he leaned back against the wall. His coat blended in with the barn and he was nearly invisible. Not even a determined search by the Weather Patrol would find him. Finally, he was alone. For a long time Mac sat there with his battered photo and memories. Eventually he would have to return to the party. He had told Twilight that he would be there. But that was not really the reason he would show up. Mac had to be there to right a wrong. Not so much to right a wrong - more to prevent a wrong from happening, to ensure somepony did what he hadn’t done all those years ago: save Fluttershy from suffering his fate. Fluttershy was more than a friend to him; she was kin. He would kill or die defending her from any and all foes. In this case, he was powerless to defend his sister. All he could do was be on hand and be supportive. Give her the courage to tell Twilight what she felt. Mac knew from experience that telling somepony “I love you” was one of the hardest sentences possible to utter. Mac didn’t think Twilight would be cruel, but she was naïve, and with naivety came danger. No matter what happened, he wanted to be there. He hoped, beyond hope, that Twilight would say nothing and instead wrap her arms around Fluttershy. Both of them deserved it. Then he could slink off back to his rooftop, his duty done and his sister safe. But if necessary he would be a shoulder to cry on, an older brother in her time of need. Maybe if somepony had been there, all those years ago, he would have had the courage required to speak that unspeakable sentence. The last two weeks had been the most emotionally trying time of Spike’s life. Twilight loved her unanswerable puzzles but Spike couldn’t see the appeal. When he saw Fluttershy gazing at Twilight, it seemed right to keep silent. Noble, even. But that feeling had not lasted beyond destroying the records. You must tell her! You cannot keep this big a secret! Part of him screamed for action; the other said he would be crazy to try anything. What would you say? What could you say? ”Hey, Twilight, FYI it’s you that Fluttershy is pining for. So, good luck with that. I am going to make a sandwich. Want one?” He considered talking to Fluttershy about the situation, but immediately rejected that idea. If someone knew he was smitten with Rarity and talked to him about it, he would die of embarrassment. He couldn’t do that to Fluttershy, and if anything, that conversation would be even more awkward than just talking to Twilight. Every day he helped Twilight search for Fluttershy’s love. Every day they recorded Fluttershy’s reactions to various things. And every day he wondered if his course was the right one. It was a good thing Twilight never bothered to look at the notes he was taking. Because he already had the answer, the entire exercise seemed pointless. Most were doodles. Am I right? Should I tell her? Can I tell her? This was the clearest example of a no-win situation Spike had yet seen. His options seemed to be universally bad. Telling her would be catastrophic. Not telling her would be a long, slow, ongoing disaster. The best solution would be to somehow “nudge” Twilight in the right direction, but he was at a complete loss for how to begin even attempting such a course of action. And so he did nothing. He pretended he hadn’t been cursed with the knowledge. As Spike wracked himself for a solution that was looking more and more fanciful, Twilight continued her experiments. He considered the entire experiment an endeavor in futility. However, she was not discouraged by the lack of results. If anything, she became more obsessive. Then yesterday she woke up late and came to lunch with her mane still tangled from sleep. Instead of the usual bags under her eyes, there was a wild gleam in them. Spike had heard of the expression “the clarity only true madness can bring,” but never really understood it until now. Her plan at least sounded scientific. But it also sounded like it could go horribly wrong. The biggest problem he saw with it was that it could work. It could really work. She could really find out that Fluttershy was madly in love with her. There was no telling what would happen then. She had not changed after all those years. Literally not one hair in her mane was any different. And yet she was getting worn around the edges; a crease ran through her left ear and there was a water stain on her muzzle. And yet she was as beautiful as ever. Reverently, Mac unsealed the bag and withdrew his lost love. Every feature of her was irrevocably committed to his mind. Perfect, clear eyes. Wonderful, cascading mane. Quick, astonishing mind. Laugh, smile, coat, everything. He didn’t need the picture to remember her. A two-dimensional celluloid representation couldn’t hope to capture her infectious laugh, her smile, or the knowing glimmer in her eyes. It was like trying to ensnare a warm summer breeze in a bottle. The picture was to remember how she had been. How she had been before he had hurt her. His last sight of her was also burned into his memory. She had turned back to him and said she never wanted to see him again. “Ah understand that you hate me. Ya should. Ah just want you to know Ah’m so sorry, dear Celestia, Ah am so sorry.” He spoke the words of his heart into the cold night air. “Ok Angel, tonight is the night. Tonight I tell her.” I think. Fluttershy’s reflection stared back from the mirror, checking for any hairs amiss in her mane. The hare remained silent, watching her primp. “I know I’ve said that before. But tonight I mean it.” I think. She gave a final pat to correct an errant hair and stepped back, turning to face the bunny. The hare continued to remain silent. “Ok, maybe I’ve also said that before. But tonight is different.” I hope. Her confidence lasted until she opened the door. As she prepared to cross the threshold a small part of her recognized the symbolism. Angel scrunched up at the cold from the open door. Here goes. She inhaled deeply and took a step forward. As she did, she unconsciously tugged at her mane, ruining her immaculate styling job that Rarity would have found admirable. The same small part of her recognized the symbolism of the now closed door. “Do you mind if I join you up here?” Mac jumped and wheeled to face the speaker. It sounds just like…, but it can’t be… It was. “M'lady!” Mac fell into an automatic deep bow at the sight of the ruler of Equestria, and almost fell off the roof. “Big Macintosh,” Princess Celestia said calmly, “There really is no need to bow. I’m not here on official business. And besides, if you aren’t careful you might just verify the gravitational constant in a most painful manner.” “Yer really here. It’s really you. Ah mean, your majesty!” How she had got up here without his noticing was a mystery to him, but he would have to solve that problem later. “Yes, it is I.” She seemed mildly amused that he would have any doubt. His eyes traced over her, taking in the wings, horn, mane, imperial jewelry, and regal pose. It all checked out. Sure enough, standing on top of the roof in front of him was the rightful monarch of the land. Celestia, THE Princess, herself, is on my rooftop. Celestia, is on my rooftop. Right now. Celestia, the Princess… “I hope I am not interrupting anything. Is now a good time to talk?” Surprise and confusion made answering her impossible at this current juncture. The fact that the Princess was asking if a royal visit was inconvenient did not fit with any version of reality with which Mac was familiar. All Mac’s processing power was being diverted to attempting to make sense of the situation. I need data. Brain, retrieve files related to Princess Celestia. It responded with, “Running,” and after a fraction of a second that seemed to take an eternity, it returned every detail Mac knew about Celestia. Sort by relevance to today. He spent several seconds sifting through the information while Celestia looked on patiently. The data was clear but nonetheless he checked it several times. Then he spent several more seconds marshaling his courage to speak. Celestia stared out at the town giving him his time. Finally he was ready. “Ma’am, intending no disrespect, but ya said ya couldn’t come to the party.” That makes her either a liar or a delusion. “Ya had some last-minute meeting with a Dragon Council or somethin’.” He knew exactly what she had told Twilight, but felt that sounding a little unsure about it was the best course of action, just in case. Can a phantasm banish me to the moon? “I am arbitrating a dispute between the United Dragon Union and the Imperial Griffon Empire. Once again the two sides are threatening to go to war over a territorial dispute. At my bequest they are meeting one last time, and with any luck we will be able to reach a peaceful settlement. The fact that both sides are sitting down and talking is a very promising sign. The last such ‘conference’ ended with the Griffon' throwing water in the dragon ambassador’s face, who promptly set the table on fire. But we are making real progress and I think we can resolve this without any bloodshed.” From what he had heard about these ”disputes,” he was unsure if any amount of talking would settle anything, but then he was unsure about everything surrounding this entire situation. She saved him from needing to provide an answer by continuing, “But I am not here to discuss the burdens of leadership; I am here for you.” She pointed a hoof at him as if to ensure there were absolutely no confusion about whom she was here to help. Mac looked at the hoof, tracing with his eye to where it pointed. As he suspected, she was in fact pointing at him. The implications of that fact were staggering. “Ya should be there. Stoppin’ a war and all. Ah’m just one pony.” The Princess herself came to Ponyville, just for him, rather than attend a peace conference. That fact was currently incomprehensible to him, and he was still not entirely convinced this wasn’t some sort of crazy apple-induced dream. “Your concern for the peace of a region is commendable. But relax - we took an hour’s recess to cool off and take refreshments, so I thought I would stop by.” Her voice made it sound like she was popping in for a cup of coco and a chat about the latest Harry Colter book. “You know how dragons are if they don’t get their midnight snacks.” Mac really didn’t know what hungry dragons were like, but he was willing to take her word that ravenous dragons weren’t the best negotiators. That part made sense. However, the rest... “Ma’am, making no accusations, but Canterlot is a half-day’s flight.” He was surprised at his own daring for speaking those words. Did Ah just accuse the Princess of lying, again? Ah really hope this is a hallucination. “You assume I flew.” She wore a cryptic smile. “But if ya didn’t fly, then how…” “Distance is a measurement between two points. The fastest route between two points is a straight line. I simply created a path that is straighter than a straight line. Crossing that distance is then foal’s play.” He stared on dumbfounded; it sounded both incredibly easy and completely impossible. “Ya can do that?! That’s amazing!” “Not really.” She seemed almost embarrassed about it. “It’s just unicorn magic, a simple teleportation spell. You must have noticed that Twilight Sparkle can. Granted, she is not ready to make the trip between Canterlot and Ponyville, but give her a few years. At her age, the fact that she can teleport at all is nothing short of incredible.” Pride for her student filled her words. All in all, an excellent deflection. His brain had already gathered the relevant data and had already searched through all of it. But he searched through it again. He could find no mention of or even allusion to Celestia’s ever traveling by anything other than her chariot. The “Celestia is not real” position was gaining serious support. But on the off chance she was real; he gave faux-Celestia a chance to explain herself. “Pardon me Ma’am, but if ya can materialize where you wish, why don’t ya? Why do ya always take that chariot?” He was able to keep his hooves from shaking while asking the question. There is a chance I am interrogating the Empress of Light. “It’s strenuous.” This answer came immediately after Mac finished closing his mouth. “Ah see.” If it’s so strenuous why did she just come down to see me? Things are not adding up. That settles it - she must be a hallucination. He reasoned all of this out dispassionately. His conclusion, though he didn’t like it, was inescapable. Which makes me crazy. He greeted the diagnosis with no discernable reaction. Emotion would come later. Now he was only glad that no, the ruler of Equestria was in fact not personally on top of his roof asking to speak to him. Ah guess that means Ah should go take a long nap and then go see Nurse Redheart. With this decision made, he turned to climb down. Ah would have thought madness would have felt different. Her voice carried to him, unperturbed by his sudden decision to leave. “I hear you play a mean game of chess. Would you humor me with a quick game?” Of all the responses for this vision to select, this one was so out-of-the-blue and so random it brought him up short. Upon turning, he saw pseudo-Celestia sitting in a comfortable chair. The sudden appearance of two chairs, a table, and a chess set cemented the notion that he was seeing things. “I am afraid it has been a while since I last played, so I may be a little rusty.” If she was aware of Mac’s internal machinations, she made no sign of it. He had to hoof it to his delusion - it had pulled out all the stops. The legs of the chairs and table were lengthened on one side so as to fit on the roof. They looked to have been taken right out of Granny’s sitting parlor, except for the rooftop modifications. “Left or right.” She offered two closed hooves and a smile. It doesn’t matter which I choose. He hated these binary decisions. He had no information on which to base a decision, so it was a random guess. But then again he thought, None of this is real, so it really doesn’t matter. She is not there. There is no chess board, no chess pieces, and no Celestia. Despite his brain’s assurance that Celestia was not there, he couldn’t help but answer the rightful monarch of his land. “Right.” He always chose right, no matter how many times he was asked, and no matter how many times he agonized over which to choose, right was always his selection. It was comforting. Wait… If none of this matters I can choose whatever I like. “No, left, definitely left." He toyed with this idea, "I we be defiantly left.” “Left it is.” She smiled at him, having made no motion to hand him his piece after his first answer. Slowly she opened her left hoof revealing the king of night. Why am Ah still up here? None of this is real. Make your excuses and leave. “Ah am sorry, I must find...” Before he could find a suitable answer she interrupted, “Come now, one quick game. It would mean a lot to me.” She tossed the king to him. Automatically, he caught it. For a second he held the piece before the repercussions of physically holding it became clear. Wait, if I am holding this, then that means that… “PPPPPrincess Celestia!” his knees gave way and he fell into a deep bow, lost his balance, and tumbled off the rooftop. “Big Macintosh,” she replied, levitating him back onto the rooftop and into his seat. “As you can see, gravity is fine.” “Your majesty.” It was all he could manage to say. “Tell you what; let’s dispense with the formalities. I am not here on official business. We are just two ponies talking and I hope about to play a game of chess.” She retook her seat and placed her king on its square. “If you call me Celestia I will call you Mac. Deal?” Numbly he shook her hoof. Her words only confirmed what he now feared. As their hooves rose and fell in a handshake, she said, “I am real. You are not hallucinating.” Atop a cliff overlooking Ponyville, a unicorn looked down at the lights. The city was nothing but bad memories for her. Nothing would please her more than to turn around and never lay eyes upon its cursed buildings again. But Princess Celestia had offered ten times her usual fee to perform personally. The exorbitant bill had been paid without a flinch. That was all well and good but what was better was the fame that would accompany performing for the Princess alongside DJ Pon-3 and the Wonderbolts. For such riches, she would just have to bear going down into that infernal town one last time. With a heavy sigh, she adjusted the carriage and started down the path. She had been hurt twice down in that tranquil valley. It was a pit of liars and hypocrites, so full of their own sacrosanct sense of righteousness. Worse, he was down there somewhere. Luna shut the mycology book and placed it atop her stack. Idly she looked over the titles. Since hearing of the party she had dedicated all of her free time to studying. But now as the party approached she found it impossible to focus. Finally she decided to brush up on titration. But Chemistry for Ponies didn’t hold the appeal it had held hours before. Before she reached the part about proper laboratory safety equipment she gave it up as a lost cause. The sun would set in a few more hours and she would set off for the party. Pacing around the throne room helped her relax. Over and over she repeated the identifying characteristics of Aspergillus. She couldn’t help but admire Celestia as she lounged on her throne. Nothing seemed to perturb her. Minutes before the Dragon Collective had announced its willingness to negotiate. Celestia had just smiled and sent word to Twilight that she would be unable to attend the party. It was almost as if she was expecting it. Luna’s heart sank at those words. As a princess she would be expected to attend the negotiations rather than the party. So much for Trivia Pursuit. Celestia had clinched this by explaining that while she wanted Luna there, neither party would accept the addition of another at the table. The Dragon Collective especially, based all trust on prior meetings and personal contact. She was confident Luna would be able to participate in future meetings, but she would have to sit out this first one. . All in all the perfect solution. Luna was able to attend the party, but she still felt included and wanted. A small part of Luna wondered if the Dragon Collective really was as arrogant as Celestia made out. Finally as Celestia rose and began preparing for the meeting Luna asked the question that had been bothering her, “You are just going to ask him to play a chess game with you?” “Yes.” Celestia didn’t elaborate as she donned her jewelry and prepared to greet the ambassadors. “But if he really is hurting as badly as you say he is, shouldn’t you do something about it?” Luna was confused; Celestia had explained the whole plot and intrigue, but it still didn’t make sense. “He is miserable, but I am doing something about it. And not just for him. If everything goes according to plan tonight, his heart will not be the only one mended.” She checked her image in the mirror. Celestia hated the pomp and circumstance that attended her position. But if the ambassadors were going to treat the negotiations seriously, she had to look regal and commanding. “But you are not doing anything directly.” “Exactly.” She looked at her younger sister’s puzzled gaze and finished cryptically, “Have a little faith, Luna. When you treat a Manticore, you don’t waltz up and tear the thorn from its paw. You have to be gentle…” “Alright, Spike, let’s go over it one more time.” Twilight kept pacing on her familiar rug, much to Spike’s annoyance. Spike rolled his eyes. This would be the fourteenth time they had reviewed the plan. He could understand Twilight’s concern; the party had grown into an all-out bash with thousands of confirmed guests. Somehow DJ-Pon-3 and the Wonderbolts were coming. It was only natural that she wanted to ensure everything she could control was completely under control. He could understand it, but it was still annoying. “Just sit here and watch the monitors. Make sure I don’t eat or drink anything. Make sure I don’t consume any alcohol. That is very important. I don’t want anything affecting the test results.” She continued to pace, waving a hoof idly, and naming off random steps. “Owlowicious has the letter. The suit is fully calibrated. The books are filed. Everything should be ready. Is the checklist complete?” Spike checked the list and ensured that all the steps she named were in fact checked, several times. Once more he ran down the list and once more found all the boxes properly checked. “Yes, the list is complete.” “Excellent, I guess that means we are ready.” This statement was not delivered with as much confidence as hoped. Spike put a concluding check on the last box and gathered the numerous scrolls up. Unceremoniously he dumped them into a pile by the desk and took his seat. He had to move the seat all the way up to reach the screen. Everything was laid out and ready. He looked expectantly at Twilight. “If you see a red light on this panel…” “Twilight, I have it all written down here. There is no need to worry. Everything is under control.” “Of course, of course. I guess that means it is time to go party.” She would have shown more enthusiasm for mucking out all of the Apple family’s barns. “See you on the other side.” Spike poured a healthy measure of coco into his mug. “Alright, any last questions?” Shadows danced around the room as her horn started to flicker and pulse. Spike shook his head, accepting her stalling. “Well I am off then.” Her words were lost in the gale of magical discharge. The only illumination left was the eerie glow from the monitors. “19:06:37 Standard Equestria Time. Test begins.” Author’s note: A special thanks to my editors. This chapter would be far worse without their guidance. Knighty has still not corrected the rating bomb so if everyone could continue to rate that would be a huge help.